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nus May, in regard that some of them are reported to be married, and the others look not after their days nor acts, shall receive no more benefit of the college, and shall be out of their places until they show cause to the college for the contrary, in three months.” Some of them had married, and some of them had neglected their exercises. The first of these crimes is by far the greatest crime for a man at college to be guilty of. For what on earth has marriage to do with books? I am happy in being able to tell you, that Marvel was guilty of the lesser fault, and the consequence was, that he was thrown from Cambridge into the wide world. He proceeds to do what almost every man of good birth and high breeding did in those days. He went to travel. While at Rome, he became acquainted with another Englishman, John Milton. Milton was some eight years older than Marvel, and these eight years helped Marvel to that due reverence for Milton, which is necessary to give the true tone in friendship between man and man, men felt all courage in Rome; and there being some priest there who had been making rather an extra fool of himself, Marvel fell to and attacked him. This made Rome warm, and Marvel went to France. There was there an insane Abbe who had written 8 little book, and Marvel wrote a little satire upon it, and this made Paris warm. There is a long gap here, and the only thing we can see of him is that he was tutor to Lord Fairfax's daughters. There is a notion now-a-days that women are better educated than they were once.

But that is all nonsense, you know. Women were a great deal better educated than they are now. We have only to go

back to Queen Elizabeth's time, and we find that ladies then spoke Latin admirably, and could read Greek fluently, and speak the French language, like a great many women now, with a little English 16cent, but very well. It'is a notion that the educa

These young

tion of woman is quite a new idea. No such thing. It has gone backwards, and not forwards. Well, Marvel was employed for the education of Lord Fairfax's daughters. In 1660, he became M.P. for Kingston-upon-Hull, and he was to be paid for it. It is considered quite an awful thing now to pay a member of Parliament. It is extremely proper to look the most horrible disgust, when any one ever prposes such a thing. But it was the old English custom, and we are the innovators. That sounds strange to us, who have such an abomination of paying members of Parliament. But we pay the Queen to govern us; we pay a gentleman to be her husband, we pay the archbishop to look after the bishop, and we pay the bishop to look after the curate, and we pay the curate to see to our souls : we pay the policeman to watch for us, and we pay the hangman to hang us. Nothing for nothing is the Englishman's rule, until we come to the member of Parliament. Marvel always took his salary punctually, and I admire him for it. What a fuss some of us make, when the physician comes to see us! how he tacks all over the room, and we walk after hizn ; then we

put his guinea up in a piece of paper

, and pretending to shake hands with him we put it into his hand. What nonsense! He would not have come, if you did not pay him. Put the money down on the table, and let him give you a receipt for it with a stamp upon it. They used to pay the members at that time; but now you expect very member to open every dirty, disgusting beershop in your dirty borough, and pour the beer down the throat of every dry-throated

fool that likes to have it. But his constituents, in addition to paying luisa

, used to send him presents of such admirable casks of beer, that he said it was a great risk to a sober man. Marvel used to send his constituents

report of what was passing in the House. And be tells us that on one or two occasions he went

without his dinner that he might not disappoint them. He was a man much looked up to in the House, though he seldom spoke; and whenever Prince Rupert talked sense, which he did occasionally, they always said he had been with his master lately, and his master was Marvel.

Wit was Charles the Second's delight. Charles would rather have been laughed at wittily, than not have had wit at all. Marvel went to court, got into conversation with Charles, and made such an impression that the next day Charles sent his Treasurer to see him, and then occurred that famous scene that makes Marvel immortal. The Treasurer found himself in the Strand, and then he found his way into one of the narrow streets, and got to the first floor. No Marvel on that floor; only such people as you and I live on the first floor. Then he found himself up on the second floor; that would not do. Then he stumbled his way up to the top-pair, and the door flew open, and there was Marvel writing. The Treasurer made him a model bow; Marvel said be was afraid he had lost his way. The Treasurer said he had not, if it had conducted him to Mr. Marvel. So they talked about the weather and about all sorts of things, except the subject he had come about. There is nothing very difficult in coming to the point, when one party does not know what it is; but when we both know what we want, what a time it takes to get at it! Bye-and-bye it was time for the Treasurer to go, and so he told him how pleased the king had been with him last night, and quite accidentally dropt a £1000 note upon the table. Marvel knew what it meant. He knew what was meant by a compliment. There are very few people who have soul enough to give you one. They let it go by for a time; let it alone for six months perhaps. They are intended afterwards to give you a lively sense of gratitude. Marvel rang the bell, and up came Buttons. “What did we have for dinner yesterday?" said Marvel,

“Broth,"

“Oh, we had that little shoulder.” “0!" said he, "yes, and what did we have for dinner to day ?" “ The shoulder cold.” “O, so we did, and what shall we have for dinner to-morrow?" said Buttons.” “Good," said Marvel, "you may go down." Then he said to the Treasurer, “Marvel's dinners are provided, you see; Marvel wants not your money. Now a man cannot do one thing like that without doing many things like that. The thousand pounds went back to the dirty source from whence it came, and Marvel was none the worse for sending it. This man maintained his position in the senate for twenty years. Bye-and-bye his enemies began to thicken and multiply. You cannot have a sharp pen without having many enemies. He was waylaid more than once, (but it never put him out, he said), until at last going down to Hull at one time to make a speech to his constituents, he died very suddenly, and it was said he died by poison. It is impossible to prove it at this distant period; but it is very likely. You know there is no pleasure in a man's dying in a natural way; so it is written down that Marvel was poisoned. He died in the fiftyeighth year of his age, on the 16th November, 1678, " beloved by good men, feared by bad, admired by all, imitated by few.” What nobler epitaph can a man have, and I especially note to you one beautiful clause? “feared by bad men.” In these days there is such a desire for being feared by no man. Marvel was the terror of England. When he dipped his pen in the ink, he was the terror of all corrupt people. His whip was one of the sharpest, and his lash was always laid on in admirable fashion. Some of you may remember that of all men' I like him whose writings are satirical, and Marvel's "king's" speech is one of the finest things for satire I ever saw. Some people doubt whether it is right to be satirical. Now I would say, never doubt whether it is right to be satirical, as long as there are any vermin in the world. I am certain that almost any instrument is lawful against them. If a thing be an imposture, you lash it as hard and as fast as you can. Satire is abominable only when it is directed against anything that is weak or gentle. Marvel wrote several poems. Some of them are beautiful enough; and they show a rather extensive knowledge of the classic languages, and a rare culture. Nature had bestowed upon this man some of her most admirable gifts, and cultivation had done everything that was possible to perfect him. He began life a poor man, and he died a poor man. So long as there are left in this nation just ten righteous men, enough to save us, so long will Andrew Marvel's name be remembered among us. I have no intention of giving any seasonable lessons upon elections; but it is a strange thing how a man will spend thousands of pounds to get an honour that men at that time used to run away from. Any man with no moral qualification whatever, but possessed of wealth, is returned with enthusiasm by free, enlightened, and independent electors. They have nothing but a big purse, and that is enough for this generation. Marvel's letters to his constituents are admirable ; they are written by a faithful pains-taking man, and contain an account of all that went on in the House of Commons. They are some of the greatest curiosities in England ; therefore, when any of you want to get yourselves up to electioneering pitch, let me recommend to you these letters of Marvel's to his constituents. You may meet with a coarse word now and then, but if you have nothing bad in you, you will not find much there. I have a perfect veneration for this incorruptible Englishman. I can only lament that he has very few successors. If you wish such men to be more common, the best way is to create a demand, and you will have them.

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